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Phil 

Koempel's 

Diary 



1861-1865 



Phil 

Koempel's 

Diary 



1861-1865 






IN EXPLANATION 

To the now thinning ranks of those Boys in Blue who 
answered the country's summons in 1861, boys not bred or 
boim to soldier life and who kept aloft the flag of our Country, 
forever preserving the Union, this volume is dedicated. 

From the pages of a diary kept by Phillip Koempel, Ser- 
geant of his Company, the events here recorded have been 
taken. Not only because of its originality and as a historical 
contribution does the writer find exciise to preserve the record, 
but it is in loving and grateful acknowledgment of his father's 
stewardship that this review is presented. 

W. K. 






XJ 



K/ 




HILIP KOEMPEL was born in Wiesbaden, Ger- 
many, in March, 1840. He received a liberal edu- 
cation and came to this country at the age of seven- 
^ teen. In 1859 he went to New Haven, Conn., to 

learn the wood carving trade. In response to the first call for 
troops for three months he enlisted in Company B, First Con- 
necticut Volunteers (Bridgeport Rifles). Was at the first 
battle of Bull Run, July 21, 1861. He re-enlisted October 15, 
1861, in Company B, First Connecticut Cavalry, and was pro- 
moted to Corporal March 1, 1863, and to Sergeant May 21, 
1864. In February, 1862, he served with his battalion under 
General Fremont in the Shenandoah campaign, taking part in 
the battles of McDowall's Station, Cross Keys and the night 
attack on Ashby's Cavalry at Strasburg, Virginia. Coming 
under General Pope's command he participated in the battles, 
including Cedar Mountain, Waterloo Bridge and the second 
battle of Bull Run. 

In 1863 the battalion was increased to a Regiment, and 
after the battle of Gettysburg crossed the Potomac at Harper's 
Ferry, driving the enemy from Bolivar Heights and Halltown 
and capturing many prisoners. 

In May, 1864, the cavalry of the army of the Potomac, 
under General Philip Sheridan, on his Richmond Raid, taking 
part in the fights at Beaver Dam Station, Yellow Tavern, 
Strawberry Plains, Meadow Bridge, Ashland, Virginia, etc. 
On the so-called Wilson's raid, to the Richmond, Danville and 
South Side railroad, the command had a severe fight at Ream's 
station, Va., June 29, 1864. During that engagement Sergeant 
Koempel was surrounded and captured. 

He was sent to Andersonville prison, where he remained 
until September, 1864, enduring untold hardships. After the 
fall of Atlanta, he was removed to Charleston, thence to Flor- 
ence, S. C, where he remained until he was paroled, February 
14, 1865. He was finally mustered out of the service, August 
5, 1865. 



PHIL KOEMPEL'S DIARY 



March 19', 1864 

Returned from re-enlisting furlough to join the Regiment 
at Annapolis Junction. Went through Washington and 
camped six miles beyond Alexandria. Cold night, rough time. 

March 20, 1864 

Arrived at Fairfax Court House. Stayed over night. 
Mosby reported in our front. Heard of fight at Calvert Sta- 
tion. Got new horse and equipment. 

March 21, 1864 

Broke camp at 8 A. M. Passed Centreville, Manasses 
Plain and camped at Bristow Station. Cold night. 

March 22, 1864 

Broke camp at 9 o'clock A. M. Marched past Calvert 
Station and camped at Warrenton Junction. Very cold. Com- 
menced snowing at 4 A. M. Snowed here all night. Rough 
night. 

March 24, 1864 

Arrived at Stevensburgh. Left camp at 8 o'clock. Passed 
Rappahannock Station. Very muddy. Saw Kilpatrick and 
camped beyond Brandy Station. 

March 28, 1864 

Cold and windy. First drill and dress parade with 
Brigade. New orders and inspection by a Staff Officer. 

April 1, 1864 
Fine day but cloudy. Good deal of fun about April fool. 

April 2, 1864 
Raining. Review by General Davies. Wet all through. 

April 3, 1864 

Stopped raining. Inspection by Major Blakeslee. Rain 
again at evening. Eleven men went after the wounded at 
Crafton Church, Virginia. 

April 22, 1864 

Fine day. Monthly inspection. Great review before Gen- 
eral Grant. 40,000 troops present. 



May 4, 1864 

Broke camp early morning. Crossed Germania Ford. 
Fine day. Many rebels encamped about ten miles from river. 

May 5, 1864 

Went toward Mine Run, skirmishing all the way. Rebels 
made a stand. We were driven back. Our squadron made a 
stand, drove the rebels, but had no support. Another stand 
about two miles from Germania Ford. 

May 6, 1864 

Broke camp early. Picket firing all night. Heavy firing 
ahead. Great battle going on. 

May 7, 1864 

Fine day. Scouting towards Mine Run again. Went to 
Chancelorsville battle ground and camped there all night. 

May 8, 1864 

Battle of Spottsylvania Court House. Captured the bag- 
gage train. Captured eight rebels on picket. 

May 9, 1864 

Beaver Dam. Arrived 8 o'clock A. M. Light marching 
orders to start on the way for Richmond. Hard moving for 
horses. Camped at Anna River 11 P. M. Rear guard fighting 
with rebels. Burned and destroyed three days' ration for 
Lee's army. Recaptured 400 of our army taken prisoners at 
Wilderness. Rebels shelled our regiment, being rear guard. 

May 10, 1864 

Rebels shelled our camp early. Company's rear guard 
fight with the rebels. Marched again within six miles of 
Richmond. Rebels made a stand at Yellow Tavern. 

May 11, 1864 

Battle of Yellow Tavern. Rebels attack us in camp. Ad- 
vance within three miles of their first intrenchment. Our 
company out as flankers. First Division engaged. Capture 
two pieces of artillery, 400 prisoners. Advance that night 
within five miles of the city. General Stuart killed. Terrible 
hand-to-hand fighting. Rebels partly whipped. 

May 12, 1864 

Strawberry Hill. George Root killed. Our Brigade en- 
gaged early at morning. Completely surrounded, hard fight- 
ing in the woods. Our Brigade rear guard cross the bridge. 
Made a stand at Meadow Bridge, supported battery. On picket 
within speaking distance of rebels. 



May 13, 1864 

Our squadron support for the battery rear guard. Crossed 
Chickahominy Bridge. Rain all night. Regiment extreme 
rear guard. Second Division relieved us. Arrived at White- 
house Landing 2 P. M. Unsaddled horses for the first time in 
four days. No fighting and camped all night. Very hungry 
and nothing to eat. 

May 14, 1864 

Rebel cavalry all around us. Left at 8 P. M. Arrived 
safely at Malvern Hill at James River. Our gun boat shelled 
us. Thought we were rebels. Went after signal corp to tell 
them who we were. 

May 15, 1864 

Broke camp and moved toward Harrison Landing. Rations 
given out. Eat hearty. Lay under protection of the gunboat. 
Hard rain. Great cheering by our sailor boys. 

May 16, 1864 

Fine weather. Went swimming in the James River. 
Heavy cannonading heard at Fort Darling. First news heard 
for over a week. Drew whiskey ration. 

May 17, 1864 

Fine day. Inspection. All ready to march, but order 
countermanded. Left camp at 8 o'clock. Marched all night, 
very slow. 

May 20, 1864 

Broke camp at morning. Marched within 18 miles of 
Richmond. Skirmish. Sick and hardly able to stay on horse- 
back. 

May 21, 1864 

Fine day. Feel better. Had good dinner of Murphys. 
Meat and pies at farm house. Ready to start, but unsaddled 
again. Heavy cannonading heard until late at night. Regi- 
ment at picket. Skirmishing all night. Slept four hours. 

May 22, 1864 

Relieved from picket 3 A. M. Joined Brigade and marched 
to Whitehouse Landing, where we arrived at 11 o'clock. Very- 
warm day. Dress parade and divine services near Baltimore 
Cross Road. 

May 23, 1864 

Fine day. Broke camp. Crossed railroad bridge by twos. 
Bridge in bad condition. Dangerous work. Pass King William 
Court House. 



May 24, 1864 

Marched all the way. My horse getting played out. 
Passed through fine country. Lead our horses part way and 
camped near Richmond and Chesterfield Pike. 

May 26, 1864 

Broke camp and marched in heavy rain towards Anna 
River. Crossed on pontoon bridge very slow. Promoted to 
Sergeant. Boys cheered me when they heard of it. 

May 27, 1864 

Light rain but clears. March toward Chesterfield and 
Camp two miles below the station. 

May 28, 1864 

Broke camp and marched toward Whitehouse Landing. 
Ninth Army Corp cheered us. Very warm, had to foot it 
about 8 miles, my horse being pretty nearly; played out. 
Camped at 4 P. M. Rebels after us. Captured six prisoners 
running into a trap we arranged. 

May 29, 1864 

Fine day. Broke camp and marched toward the river. 
When within three miles our regiment had to go back. Formed 
rear guard and had hard work to keep the rebels at proper 
distance. Drew rations and forage. 

May 30, 1864 

Broke camp and moved to the woods. Did some washing. 
Cannonading going on. 

May 31, 1864 

Hanover Court House. Left camp 3 A. M. Moved 
slowly. Passed baggage train and came up with the rebels at 
4 P. M. Had a fight, our regiment being in line of battle from 
4 P. M. until next morning 4 A. M. Close call on firing line. 
While dismounting to advance a shell burst in the rear of my 
horse. 

June 1, 1864 

Ashland, advance, rebels falling back fighting. Our regi- 
ment was rear guard. Heavy fighting. We had to fall back. 
Rebels had five brigades. In Company B killed 4, 10 wounded. 
Wilbur, Tisdale and Egan returned after being captured. 
Another close shave. Just handed Corporal Flanigan, next 
to me, my canteen, when he dropped, shot through the head. 
In falling he nearly threw me from my horse. Our Color 
Sergeant, Whipple, killed, G. Taylor and myself saving the flag. 

8 



June 2, 1864 

Stopped the night before at Hanover Court House. Went 
on picket all day. No sign of rebels. Fell back a mile and 
marched to the right of Chester. Strongly reinforced. Heavy 
rain. Hard marching through the darkness. Arrived and 
camped at 12 o'clock. 

June 3, 1864 

Broke camp at 10 A. M. Fighting began at 11 A. M. Our 
division engaged. Drove the rebels. Our regiment on picket. 

June 4, 1864 

On picket. Rebels reported advancing, but proved false. 
Relief from picket at night. Went in camp with division. 
Rain all night. 

June 5, 1864 

Raining. In camp all night. Heavy firing going on, on 
our right. 

June 6, 1864 

Boots and saddles at 4 A. M. Left camp at 7 A. M. 
Camped at 9 A. M. in a clover field. At 12 M. our regiment 
went on picket. Had a skirmish from 4 P. M. till dark. 
Nobody hurt. Held our place all night. 

June 7, 1864 

Still on picket. At 3 A. M. mounted and advanced to 
form connection with Bumside, which we accomplished. Lively 
cannonading for about three-quarters of an hour. 

June 8, 1864 
Relieved from picket. Went into camp at 10 o'clock. 

June 9, 1864 
In camp. Had my hair cut. 

June 10, 1864 

Went on picket. Rizby sent to the hospital. Rebels made 

a dash in our lines. Captain Becker killed while rallying the 

Eighteenth Cavalry. Theodore Hulbert taken prisoner while 
foraging. 

June 11, 1864 

Relieved at 2 A. M. Went with the Brigade out on Rich- 
mond Road. Found no rebels. Returned to our post at 10 
A. M. Willis of Company A killed. Three members of 3rd 
N. J. also. 



June 12, 1864 

Relieved from picket. Left camp at 8 P. M. and marched 
all night, but very slowly. 

June 13, 1864 

On the march. Crossed the Pamunkey River at Hop- 
kins Mills, also Chickahominy through the swamps and camped 
for the night near Charles City Court House. Out of rations. 

June 14, 1864 

Fine day. Left camp early and arrived at Charles City 
Court House at 11 A. M. Drew half day rations. Left at 
3 P. M. and came in slight skirmish with the rebels. Camped 
at 9 P. M. Lively picket firing all night. 

June 15, 1864 

Savage Station. Fine weather. Left camp about 6 A. M. 
Met the rebels at Savage Station and fought them until 2 P. M. 
The regiment engaged fell back within two miles to Salem 
Church. Preston. Lorimer, Sherman, Dyer, William, Volz, 
J. Russel, Baldwin, O'Daniels and Cando joined the Co. Went 
on picket. 

June 16, 1864 

On picket. Built entrenchments. Hard to work and 
stayed in entrenchments a day and night. Fell back in good 
order towards the James River, where we arrived at 10 P. M. 
Camped all night. Very hot. Guarding train which rebels 
tried hard to capture. 

June 17, 1864 

Very warm. Boots and saddles at 5 A. M. Crossed the 
James River at 8 o'clock on pontoon bridge of 102 boats. 
Camped on the other side. Started out towards Petersburgh. 
Veiy dusty road. Camped at Prince George Court House. 
Heavy cannonading in front until 9 o'clock. 

June 18, 1864 

Broke camp at 4 A. M. and marched back towards the 
landing. In camp at 10 o'clock. Heavy cannonading heard in 
front. Very hot. Extraordinary affair to be in camp all 
night without interruption. 

June 19, 1864 

Very hot. Still in camp. Regiment inspection. Con- 
gratulations from Grant. Order read to Brigade for good 
conduct in covering the movement of the army to Southside, 
James River. 

10 



June 20, 1864 

Warm weather. Still in camp. Heavy cannonading 
heard far off. Removed camp at 2 P. M. to the Woods. Pro- 
motion papers to Sergeant received from the Commissioner. 

June 21, 1864 

Fine day. Went out foraging. Drew rations for three 
days. Marching order for a ten-day raid. 

June 22, 1864 

Wilson's raid. Left camp at 3 o'clock. Burned and de- 
stroyed Reams Station on Weldon and Petersburgh Railroad. 
The rebels attacked our rear guard of Second Brigade, Third 
Division. Destroyed locomotives, water tank, tore up roads 
for three miles. Burning the rails. 

June 23, 1864 

Norway Court House. Started early. Lynchburg and 
Petersburgh Railroad destroyed. Passed black and white sta- 
tion. Burned, tobacco and other property destroyed. Arrived 
within two miles of Norway Court House at 2 o'clock. Found 
the rebels and had a fight. Rebels driven back. Our regi- 
ment on picket. 

June 24, 1864 

Regiment at picket. Advanced towards the Junction. 
Passed it and struck the Danville and Richmond R. R. Burned 
it all the way. Horses playing out fast. 

June 25, 1864 

Broke camp early. Our regiment to work burning the 
tracks. Passed Great Brand Station and arrived near High 
Bridge. General Kautz fighting the rebels near the bridge. 
Order for 75 men of our company, myself one of them, to dash 
for the bridge at night, set it on fire. Was countermanded. 

June 26, 1864 

Thundershower and rain. Moved early and took Peters- 
burgh Pike. Passed Christians. Took plenty of forage from 
Col. Gordon's house. Our regiment went to hold the Staefers 
Bridge. On picket all night. Very hot weather. Horses 
and men suffering from long march. Left my sabre, being all 
bent up. Got another from a dead rebel. 

June 27, 1864 

Started again. Moved slowly. Reported rebels in front. 
No sign of them all day. Went in camp at Lurenburg Court 
House for two hours at 8 A. M. Left at 10 A. M. Halted 
again until 3 P. M. Marched until 2 A. M. Stopped in woods 
for rest. Crossed Smoky Run. 

II 



June 28, 1864 

Stony Creek. Started early. Very warm. Arrived near 
Stony Creek about afternoon and met the enemy. A sharp 
fight. Our regiment went in late at night. Lost the regiment. 
Attacked at the wrong road. Found the regiment in the 
morning. 

June 29, 1864 

Arrived near Reams Station. Completely surrounded. 
Sharp fighting, wagons and ammunition destroyed. A general 
retreat. Delayed by crossing a ditch at Reams Station. Hand- 
to-hand fighting. Rebels right amongst us in dusty road. Got 
off my horse to assist La Crainey and found he was dead. 
Taken prisoner by the Thirteenth Va. Cavalry, four rebels 
demanding my surrender. Well treated. On horseback to 
Stony Creek. Horses taken away. 

July 1, 1864 

Very hot day. Marched to the creek in the shade, washed 
a shirt and had a bath. Got a small piece of com bread and 
meat. Generally well treated by the N. C. Infantry, our guard. 
They took my hat and demanded my watch, which I refused, 
telling the fellow I'd see him in hell first. He returns with an 
officer. I smashed my watch all to pieces before them with 
my boots. 

July 2, 1864 

At Weldon in the afternoon. At Raleigh 2 A. M. Lieut. 
Tyler, our guard, treated us well. Drew rations of seven crack- 
ers. Left Raleigh at 5 o'clock for Salisbury, 126 miles. Boys 
in good spirit. Taking it cool. Insulted by citizens at Weldon. 
We sang "The Red, White and Blue." 

July 3, 1864 

Passed Salisbury early morning. At Charlotte changed 
cars for Columbia, where we arrived at 8 P. M., a distance of 
110 miles. Heavy shower. Rough time in the car. Fairly 
packed up. We were refused water. Stopped three miles on 
the other side of the town on the railroad track. 

July 4, 1864 

Warm day. Three crackers and a small piece of meat our 
Fourth of July breakfast. Stopped at the railroad. Boys all 
went washing clothes. Plenty of g^'aybacks on hand. In good 
spirits. At 10 o'clock left for Augusta. Passed splendid plan- 
tations. 

July 5, 1864 

Arrived at Augusta early in the morning. Bought corn 
bread. Drew one loaf of bread and meat for rations. Re- 

12 



ported defeat of Johnson. Niggers fortify the place. Fine 
city. Left at 3 o'clock for Macon, Georgia, the fifth Georgia 
in the city. Pleasant boys. 

July 6, 1864 

Passed through Macon in the morning. A fine place. A 
good many foundries. Arrived at Andersonville Station at 
eleven o'clock. Marched one mile to prison. Was searched 
for papers. Went to prison about 1 o'clock. Twenty thou- 
sand men in twenty-six acres land. Terrible sight. Drew 
rations. No appetite. Eight pieces of artillery at the place. 

July 7, 1864 

Roll call at 8 o'clock. Went to see our boys. Glad to see 
me, but sorry at such a place. Fixed up a little. Saw man 
dying. Daily sight. Bought a piece of soap for fifty cents. 

July 8, 1864 

Very warm. A shower towards night. Boys brought 
some meat. Reinforced by more prisoners. Reported death 
of Beauregard. Petersburgh in ruins. Sherman seven miles 
from Atltanta. 

July 9, 1864 

Very hot. Corporals Cleary and Fisher went to the hos- 
pital. Reinforced. Heavy rain. 

July 10, 1864 . 

Hot again. Fixed canteen to draw water. Showers. 
Attended a meeting in the evening. Reinforced again. 

July 11, 1864 

Cool day. Execution of six murderers and robbers. Ter- 
rible sight. Rope broke on one and another tried to escape. 
Rain that night. Bad cold in my throat. 

July 12, 1864 

Warm day. Went to see the boys. All well. Reinforced 
by Grant's men. Report of parole by the 15th. Each State 
to take their own men. 300,000 more men called for. Got 
canteen back for 30c. Throat no better. Report of Peters- 
burgh in ruins and lots of other news, which were only rumors 
to keep up the spirit. 

July 13, 1864 

A man killed for crossing the dead line. Throat bad. 
Very warm weather. 

July 14, 1864 

Very warm. Great excitement in camp. The rebels fired 
two cannon shots and all the troops fall in. Reports of a break- 

13 



out on hand. Shower. A man was hung for stealing money. 
He pleaded guilty and gave the money back. 

July 15, 1864 

Cloudy day. Throat better. Reinforced again. Sher- 
man within four miles of Atlanta. Went to see the boys. Sold 
shirt. Little rain. 

July 16, 1864 

Cloudy day. Pretty hot. Attended meeting. Reported 
route of Sherman. Rebels at Harpers Ferry. William Hall, 
Co. K, died. 

July 17, 1864 

Very warm. A fellow got his head saved for telling 
about the tunnel. Church. Reported fall of Charleston, 
Atlanta and Petersburgh. Bet made with Church for supper 
about paying bounty. A. Sutern better. Ibanez comes to 
see me. 

July 18, 1864 

Cloudy and a little rain. Draw wood. Prisoners come 
from Sherman's army. Report of moving us to Alabama. 
Rain towards the night. Being Sergeant, I had 100 men to 
account for every morning at roll call. 

July 19, 1864 

Warm day. A small squad of prisoners arrived. Report 
of a raid of our cavalry at Macon. Rebels get reinforced by 
two companies guarding us. 

July 20, 1864 

Cool and cloudy. Rain in the afternoon. Feel better. 
Rations short. Report of Ewell's defeat by Sigel. Two men 
escaped through tunnel. The rebels fortify around the prison. 
They get reinforcement. Very hot. Thunder but no rain. 
Reported fall of Montgomery, Alabama. Guterman went to 
the hospital. 

July 21, 1864 

Warm. Man shot for crossing the dead line. Great fuss 
about the rebel camp and deporting niggers. Atlanta not 
taken. 

July 22, 1864 

Very warm. Two men shot for crossing the dead line and 
one man shot at the gate. Corporal Phelps of Comp. A died. 
Twenty-five men of the regiment come. Also Corporal Duzter 
of my comp. Barry left prisoner at Richmond. 

14 



July 23, 1864 

Cloudy and cool. D. Henley came to see me. Felt sick. 
Caught cold and had a bad effect on my eye. Cool night. 
Report of parole on the 6th of August. 

July 24, 1864 

Cool at morning, warm toward noon. Eye very painful. 
Atlanta captured again. Seven thousand prisoners taken. 
Had the blues bad all day. 

July 25, 1864 
Cool night, hot day. Rations getting small. Reported 
Sherman's defeat. Eye still bad. Prayer meeting at night. 

July 26, 1864 

Cool and cloudy. Rain in the afternoon. Eye better. 
Rations short. Four hundred prisoners arrived, mostly 100 
day men. Report of El well's defeat by Sigel. 

July 27, 1864 

Very hot weather. Eye mostly well. Rain in the after- 
noon. 

July 28, 1864 

Very warm. Went washing. John Guterman died in the 
hospital. Eight hundred prisoners arrived from Sherman's 
army. The rebels fired a shell over the camp to prevent crowd- 
ing near the gate to see the new arrival of prisoners. Wirz 
threatened to fire at us, which he would have done. Church 
at night. Corporal Smith, Company L, died. 

July 29, 1864 

Hot day. The rebels placed white flags in camp to 
keep the prisoners crowding to the gate. Went to see Perry. 
All well. Rain. Reinforced. Prisoner a month. Attended 
meeting. Blackeslee of Company L died. 

July 30, 1864 

Very hot day. Short rations. Rebels busy throwing up 
forts. Report of shelling Macon. Attended church. Looks 
like rain. 

July 31, 1864 

Cloudy and cool. Rebels at work all day building intrench- 
ments. Report of capture of Macon. Six bushwakers hung. 
Looks like rain. 

August 1, 1864 

Warm. A chaplain read a part out of the Herald to the 
prisoners and made a speech. Strong hopes of getting out 

15 



soon. Officers at Charleston all to be exchanged by the 20th. 
Nothing but meat for rations. Cool night. 

August 2, 1864 

Cloudy in the morning, heavy shower in the afternoon. 
Terrible rain. Lightning strikes outside the stockade, about 
fifty yards from my tent, and cuts three trees. Four hundred 
men of Stoneman's cavalry come in. The report of Stone- 
man's capture at Macon. The sick are taken out all day. 

August 3, 1864 

Very hot. The sick are still taken out. Another squad 
of Stoneman's raiders coming in. Report burning three 
bridges between Augusta and Macon. Three men shot for 
crossing the dead line. Little rain in the afternoon. 

August 4, 1864 

Quite warm. Sick taken out. Still no roll call. Con- 
siderable firing at the dead line. Another squad of Stone- 
man's raiders coming in. Very sick headache. 

August 5, 1864 

Hot weather. Another lot of sick going out. No roll call. 
Small squad of prisoners come in. Report of Grant blowing 
up three forts at Petersburgh. Cool night. 

August 6, 1864 

Cloudy. Rebels still to work building forts. A man shot 
passing the death line. No roll call. Showers. Headache. 
Cool night. Graham, of Company K, died in camp. 

August 7, 1864 

Hot morning, cool afternoon. A tunnel found near my tent. 
No roll call. Headache all day. Small squad of McCook's 
raiders come in. Report of General Winder received. Order 
to parole immediately. Cool night. Drew bully rations. 

August 8, 1864 

Cloudy. No roll call. Prisoners from Sherman's army 
come in. Captured at Eastpoint. The guard fired a bullet 
close to my head. Steady rain for two hours. Bought 50c 
worth of wood. 

August 9, 1864 

Cloudy and cool. Small squad of prisoners from Sher- 
man's army arrived. Heavy thunder showers, and rain pours 
down in torrents for three hours. Washes the stockade away 
on three sides. The rebels fall in under arms for all night. 
No attempt made to break out. Rain all night. Great pain 
in my shoulder. Spring of clear water discovered after the 
storm. 

16 



August 10, 1864 

Cloudy and close. Niggers to work putting up stockade. 
Another hard rain storm, and continued all night. Drew 
cooked beef and pork. Report of exchange postponed to Octo- 
ber. Roll call. 

August 11, 1864 

Cloudy and rained in the afternoon. The niggers finished 
the stockade and built a new one outside. No rations. Re- 
ported fall of Mobile. Orders to build forts by moonlight. 
One hundred and nineteen died today. 

August 12, 1864 

Warm. One-half rations. Looks like rain. Poor fellow 
died near my camp in great agony. Small squad of prisoners 
arrived. Heard of Sergt. Tomasson's death at hospital. 

August 13, 1864 

Cloudy and cool. One-half rations. Pretty hungry all 
day. Three pounds of meat for 90 men. Went to see the boys. 
All well. Number of deaths since February 28, 6,118. Drew 
a little wood. 

August 14, 1864 

Pretty warm. Bean soup for breakfast. Atlanta fell 
once more. Short of rations again. Fine night. Had the 
blues very strong. 

August 15, 1864 

Warm, as usual. Sick and all to be present at roll coll. 
Report of peace proposed. Traded my last coffee cup for salt. 
Stock of exchange low. Rations still small. Prisby, Com- 
pany K, died. 

August 16, 1864 

Very hot, then rained for about four hours and became 
cooler. A General took a picture of camp. Stock of exchange 
high. More rain towards night. The rebels do a good deal 
of cheering and firing. Washed my clothes. Splendid moon- 
light. Slight cold. Rations better. 

August 17, 1864 

Very hot. Order issued to keep camp clean. Six men 
detached for that purpose. Small squad of prisoners arrived. 
Stock of exchange low. A few sick are taken out. Two regi- 
ments of rebels leave for reinforcement. Bad headache. 
Rations small. 

August 18, 1864 

Quite warm. Exchange stock low. Reported raid of Kil- 
patrick near Macon. Bad cold. 

17 



August 19, 1864 

Warm and close. Heavy rain in the afternoon, which 
lasted until late at night. In the evening a fellow escaped. 
Drew rations late. Roll call late. Pretty hungiy. Stock of 
exchange low. 

August 20, 1864 

Cloudy but warm. Small squad from Sherman comes in. 
Good news. Officers exchanged. Enlisting good. Kilpatrick 
on a raid. Rainy all day. Stock of exchange high. Dis- 
solved partnership with a comrade under my tent. He acted 
greedy when dividing rations. 

August 21, 1864 

Cloudy and rainy. Baker comes and lives with us in tent. 
Cool night. Mosquitoes terrible. Sick suffer. Nothing but 
one piece of bread for ration. McDavies, of Company K, died. 
Dreamed of regiment and Margraff . 

August 22, 1864 

Sun shines. Drew wood. Ration of meat. The first 
man of our regiment died. A few prisoners from Florida, 
niggers amongst them. Plenty of beans. The man who 
escaped on the 19th brought back. 

August 23, 1864 

Hot day. Rations short. Stock of exchange high. A 
few men are taken out to be exchanged. 

August 24, 1864 

Hot, as usual. Heard a rebel paper read of the 21st. 

Nothing important. Only the officers to be exchanged. Made 
a bet with Baker for two kegs of beer that we would be in our 
line by the 15th of October. 

August 25, 1864 

Very hot day. Drew good rations of rice and molasses. 
Stock for exchange high. Men for men to be exchanged. 
Nothing of importance. 

August 26, 1864 

Hot again. Received rations late. Stock of exchange 
high. Small squad of prisoners arrived from Florida. 

August 27, 1864 

Warm, as usual. Heard the exchange paper went off 
today. Grant takes possession of the Weldon R. R. Peace 
proposition. The sick received new clothing. Three showers, 
but not much rain. 

18 



August 28, 1864 

Cool day. Had my hair cut. A fellow is brought in 
captured with the discharge in his pocket. Poor rations of 
beans. Cool night. Dreamed of Kathy. 

August 29, 1864 

Cool day. Two months prisoner. Went to see the boys. 
Pat Clary very low. Ferris loaned me a book. Counted 
thirty dead lying at the gate. Stock of exchange low. 

August 30, 1864 
Pretty hot day. Stock of exchange low. Small squad of 
prisoners arrived from Sherman's. His left wing falling 
back. 

August 31, 1864 

Cool day. Stock of exchange high. Sherman's head- 
quarters at Atlanta. Cold night. Oliver, Company E, died. 

September 1, 1864 

Cool day. Nothing new of importance. Had a bad cold 
and pain all night. Stock of exchange high. The rebels built 
another blockade around the camp. Cold night. 

September 2, 1864 

Pleasant weather. Drew rations late. Had pain again 
all night. Stock of exchange high in the morning, but low in 
the afternoon. Report of Sherman twelve miles this side of 
Atlanta. 

September 3, 1864 

Cool and looks like rain. Exchange high. Ten men tried 
to escape and got fired at. Sick coming in from the hospital. 
Davies, of Camp L, died. 

September 4, 1864 

Cool day. Heard of Pat. Cleary's death. Also death of 
Bill Davies, Company L. Returned book to Ferris. No news 
of importance. Exchange low. Count thirty dead at the gate. 

PRICE LIST AT CAMP SUMPTER, ANDERSONVILLE, GA. 
CONFEDERATE MONEY 

Salt, per spoon 15c 

Soda, per spoon 25c 

Soap, one inch 25c 

Watermelon $2.00-$3.00 

Potatoes, per dozen 1.25 

Onions, per dozen 2.50 

Eggs, per dozen 8.00 

Apples, per piece 25c 

19 



Meat, per ration 10c-25c 

Green corn 35c 

Beans, per pint 25c-35c 

Flour, per pint 30c 

Biscuits 25c-35c 

Yankee coffee, per spoon 25c 

Tobacco, half a block 40c 

Bean soup, per cup 10c 

September 5, 1864 

Hot day. Small squad of prisoners came in, captured 
this side of Atlanta. Hood badly whipped. Lost his siege 
guns. Report of loss of one transport of rebel prisoners at 
Charleston harbor. Six hundred lives lost. Great hope of 
our force taking us out of prison soon. 

September 6, 1864 

Quite warm. Thunder shows and heavy rain. Eighteen 
ordered to leave in the morning. Boys happy and joyful. 
Drew good rations. 

September 7, 1864 

Fine day. From one to eighteen leave. Others have 
orders to be ready. Doubtful where to send us. Looks like 
rain. 

September 8, 1864 

Regular fall weather, cool and rainy. More of the boys 
leave. Reported death of John Morgan and capture of his 
staff. Not sure when they will send for us. Thirty thousand 
rebels are waiting for exchange at Charleston. Cold night. 

September 9, 1864 

Quite warm. Detachments still going away. Reported 
fall of Richmond with heavy loss on both sides. T. Gallagher 
of our detachment died. The sick not able to work put in 
barracks. Small rations. Terrible time in the cars. 

September 10, 1864 

Received order to leave at 7 o'clock. Left prison at 9 
o'clock. Drew 2 days' rations. Sixty men in the cars fairly 
packed up. Happy when I left that bull pen behind me. Dis- 
tance sixty miles. 

September 11, 1864 

Arrived at Macon towards morning. Stopped there sev- 
eral hours and left for Augusta, where we arrived at about 
6 P. M. Changed cars and stopped in town until 10 P. M. 
Boys singing national songs. Left Augusta about 10 P. M. 
Distance from Macon 160 miles. 

20 



September 12, 1864 

Passed Branchville and arrived at Charleston, S. C. Dis- 
tance 13 miles. Marched us about a mile to a splendid fair 
ground. The people brought us water and bread, but the 
guard stopped it. Cold night. Poor fellows run around all 
night to keep warm. Hadern killed accidentally by the car. 
No rations. 

September 13, 1864 

Cool morning. Heard shells bursting in town. Three 
crackers and a good ration of bacon for one day. Union women 
bringing food, also shirts, and throw them in the line, although 
it was against orders. In the afternoon marched us out and 
counted us over again. Cool night. 

September 14, 1864 

Fine morning. Fresh meat and two crackers. One thou- 
sand five hundred men leave. Destination unknown. Brisk 
firing heard all day. The rebels plant four cannons around us. 
Ladies bringing things for the sick. Three hundred men go 
to work for the rebels, among them Jno. Wallace, of Company 
A. Fire bell ringing at night. 

September 15, 1864 

Fine breeze all day. Little rain. Brisk bombardment of 
the city all night. More of the Andersonville prisoners arrived. 
Two and three-quarter crackers and beef for rations. Report 
of the sailors to be exchanged. 

September 16, 1864 

Fine, cool morning. Drew rice, meat, beans, flour, hom- 
iny and beef. Nothing new of importance. Some rascal stole 
my coffee pot. 

September 17, 1864 

Cloudy and cool, little rain. Our shells set some houses 
on fire. Fire alarm. Our army keep on firing and made some 
excellent shots. Little excitement at midnight. A fellow 
caught stealing $1.40 from comrade and got a good licking. 

September 18, 1864 

Cool morning. Rain all day. Marched out under heavy 
rain to be counted over again. Rations late at night. Noth- 
ing to eat all day. Rice, molasses, beans, lard, flour for rations. 
A spoonful of each. 

September 19, 1864 

Still raining. Traded my pocketbook for a pan and an- 
other one for wood. Rations the same, only bacon. Not 
much shelling of the town. Report of exchange of 2,000 
between Hood and Sherman. 

21 



September 20, 1864 

Thunder and rain. Lively cannonading going on. Rations 
the same. Heavy rain. During the night a crazy man shot 
for crossing the dead line. 

September 21, 1864 

Rain and damp. Cleared off in the afternoon. Lively 
cannonading heard and brisk shelling of the city. Rations 
the same. Warm night. 

September 22, 1864 

Pleasant again. Quite warm. Report of a speedy ex- 
change. Not much firing at the city. 

September 23, 1864 

Pleasant and cool. Hardly a shot fired at the city. McClel- 
lan does not accept the Democratic nomination. A rebel ser- 
geant tells me that he hopes old Abe will be elected. Stock 
exchange high. 

September 24, 1864 

Pleasant weather. Rebels counted us over again. Hardly 
any firing. A rebel sergeant is sentenced to stand on a barral 
eight hours a day for tv\^elve days for buying greenbacks. 
Cold night. 

September 25, 1864 

North wind blowing. Warmer towards noon. Ninety 
out of three hundred returned to camp, the rest to work on 
Sullivans Island. A good man enlisted (Dibel of Brooklyn). 
Cold night. Slept uikIo' blanket for the first time. Lively 
shelling. Fire alarm at night. 

September 26, 1864 

Cool. Fire alarm in the city. Drew two days' rations. 
Lively bombarding. It seems the Yanks opened a new bat- 
tery. Another fire alami. Jeff. Davis on a trip making 
speeches. Not very cool at night. 

PRICE LIST OF ARTICLES AT CHARLESTON, S. C, 

WHILE PRISONER AT RACE COURSE ON 

SEPTEMBER 26, 1864 

Salt, 2 spoons 5c 

Soft bread, per loaf 15c-25c-35c 

Potatoes, 5 for 25c 

Tobacco, per block 30c-50c 

Red peppers, 6 for 5c 

Sweet potatoes, per bushel $10.00 

Bread, per pound. Confederate money 10c-15c 

22 



Salt, per pound, Confederate money 25c 

Tobacco, per block, Confederate money 20c-25c 

Meal, per quart. Confederate money 10c 

Flour, per pint. Confederate money 10c 

September 27, 1864 

Pleasant breeze. Washed my clothes. Not much firing. 
Warm night. A rebel lieutenant is taking names of fellows 
whose time is up and want to take the oath. Stock of exchange 
low. 

September 28, 1864 

Pleasant day. Drew two days' rations. Report of an 
exchange by Saturday. Early whipped by Sheridan. Grant 
and Sherman strongly reinforced. The rebels tried to hold 
out to the first of November. Lively shelling in the evening 
between 7 and 9 o'clock. 

September 29, 1864 

Cool day. Three months a prisoner. Nothing new of 
importance. Shelling in the evening. Rain at night. Crack- 
ers confiscated for selling so high. 

September 30, 1864 

Rainy and unpleasant, but cleared at noon. Drew one- 
half rations. The sick return to camp. Orders for 1,500 
men to leave in the morning. Destination unknown. Rain at 
night. 

Ocotber 1, 1864 

Rain and unpleasant. Drew two crackers and bacon. 
Left Charleston 8 A. M. for Florence, S. C. Got sweet pota- 
toes. Went over trestle work, seven miles. Heavy rain. 
Stopped in a cornfield. Cloudy, but no more rain. 

October 2, 1864 

Florence, S. C. Entered another bull pen. Give up hopes 
to be relieved this winter. Plenty wood. Gather up a load. 
Nasty and swampy place. Counted off. Drew four pints of 
floiar and fresh beef. Three mess, 3 detachments. Slept 
soundly on account of being tired. 

October 3, 1864 

Foggy morning. Building a good tent. Rain all day. 
Four spoons of flour, two spoons of beans, one spoon of salt 
and two ounces of beef for rations. No news. One thousand 
two hundred of our men taking the rebel oath to save their 
lives. Hooted at as they left stockade. 

23 



October 4, 1864 

Cleared off. Pleasant. Report of our force landing in 
strong force at Georgetown, S. C, 60 miles. A man shot for 
crossing the dead line. Better rations, molasses, rice and 
flour. Busy building a tent. 

October 5, 1864 

Pleasant day. Three years enlisted in the cavalry today. 
More of the Charleston prisoners arrived. 

October 6, 1864 

Fine breeze blowing. One of my detachment escaped. 
Thunder shower and heavy rain during the night. News of a 
general exchange. Three spoons of meal, four spoons of beans 
for rations. 

October 7, 1864 

Fine breeze. Clear morning. More of the Charleston 
prisoners arrived. Two pints of flour for rations. 

October 8, 1864 

North wind. More of our detachment escaped. Rations 
a little better. Troops moving about. Very cold night. 
Great suffering. 

October 9, 1864 

Cold north wind. Warmer afternoon. One pint flour, 
four spoonfuls of meal. More of the Charleston prisoners 
arrived. Bring the story of officers exchanged. Our troops 
reinforced. Macon and Andersonville captured. 

October 10, 1864 

Wind changed. Quite warm. Nothing of importance. 
Two men found frozen to death. Two hundred and seventy 
took rebel oath. Most all men without clothes and blankets. 
Rations same. Warmer. 

October 11, 1864 

Fine day. Lieutenant of the Fifth Cavalry takes com- 
mand. Two hung for stealing rations and blankets. 

October 12, 1864 

Fine day. Drew rations at 9 P. M. Fifth Cavalry 
ordered to the front. 

October 13, 1864 

Cool morning. Four spoons flour, meal and eight spoons 
molasses for rations. Anton sold his pistol for $2.00 and one 
block of tobacco. Three men brought back. Report of speedy 
exchange of 10,000 men wounded. Cold night. 

24 



October 14, 1864 

Pleasant morning. Thirteen sacks beans, seven buckets 
of molasses, nine of meal, three of hominy for 1,000 men, 
three days' rations. Nothing new of importance. 

October 15, 1864 

Cloudy but pleasant. Lost my bet for two kegs of beer, 
made with Henry the 24th of August that we be exchanged 
today. The rebels' lieutenant whipped a man and drew his 
revolver on another. 

October 16, 1864 

Pleasant morning. A fellow gets fifty lashes for stealing. 
Dinner of sweet potatoes. The police take the clothing of the 
dead and give it to those who have none. Two hundred and 
fifty men take oath. Five spoons hominy, three spoons of 
beans for rations. 

October 17, 1864 

Fine day. Drew rations at 9 P. M. The Fifth Guard 
ordered to the front. 

October 18, 1864 

Unpleasant and rainy all day. Been to work digging a 
well. Sick for the last four days. Good rations. Cold night. 

October 19, 1864 
Cleared off. Feel better. No news. 

October 20, 1864 
Cloudy but pleasant. Four blankets are issued. Bully 
supper of cakes and molasses. 

October 21, 1864 

Pleasant day. Rations small. The first 1,000 move on 
our side to make room for a hospital. 

October 22, 1864 

Cold northeast wind. The sick are moved inside the 
stockade. Small rations. One regiment went away. One 
thousand received clothing. 

October 23, 1864 

Cool but pleasant. Got shaved. Rations small. Took a 
walk on the other side. Saw sickening sights at the hospital. 
Potatoes and beans for dinner. 

October 24, 1864 

Pleasant weather. Four spoons of rice, four spoons of 
molasses for rations. Great talk of a speedy exchange. Cold 
night. 

25 



October 25, 1864 

Pleasant but cool. Rations better. Stock of exchange 
still high. Rebels turned out for inspection and review. Care- 
ful for us not to see the review. 

October 26, 1864 

Cloudy and cool. Sixty prisoners arrived from Charleston. 
They confirm the news of an exchange going on in Savannah. 
Between thirty and forty dying daily in camp. Rations poor. 

October 27, 1864 

Still cloudy. Rain set in about noon. Heavy rain at 
night. Bad flour for rations. 

October 28, 1864 

Cleared off toward morning. One hundred draw cloth- 
ing, three shirts, three hats, four pairs of socks. Rations bet- 
ter. Hood reported on a raid. 

October 29, 1864 

Pleasant day. Beef for rations. Four months a pris- 
oner. Drew wood. Nothing new. 

October 30, 1864 

Very warm day. My hundred drew five more pieces of 
clothing. Talk of another exchange. Had the blues all day. 
Nio meal issued for rations. 

October 31, 1864 

Cloudy. No news. Raining. 

November 1, 1864 

Heavy rain and storm all day. Poor fellows without shel- 
ter lying about. Ten spoons of meal and beef. 

November 2, 1864 

Expiration of my three years service. Still raining and 
cold. 

November 3, 1864 

Rainy and cold. No news. 

November 4, 1864 

Cleared ofi", but cold, wind blowing. Had to eat food half 
cooked. 

November 5, 1864 

Sunshine but still cold. The description list of every 
prisoner is taken. Report of Jeff. Davis recognized the niggers 
as soldiers. Grand drill by the rebels. 

26 



November 6, 1864 

Splendid day. Quite a squad of Yankees going out on 
the oath. Stock of exchange high. Rebels return late. Great 
cheering going on for old Abe. 

November 7, 1864 

Unpleasant and raining, but cleared toward noon. Went 
to work digging clay for fire place. Great talk around the 
camp about election. 

November 8, 1864 

Lincoln elected. Unpleasant morning. Some of the de- 
tachments are voting. Old Abe comes out best all over. Seven 
votes cast in our hundred for McClellan, the rest for Abe. 
Discouraging news about Sherman. Read the rebel paper of 
the 1st. Rebel, Ltd. Says old Abe would finish the war the 
quickest. He was no McClellan man. 

November 9, 1864 

Cleared off and pleasant. Old Abe elected in camp four 
to one. Busy building a fire place. Report of Jeff. D. calling 
out 30,000 niggers. Rations middling. 

November 10, 1864 

Cloudy and signs of rain. Fire place almost done. Small 
rations. Report of Lee retreating. Cool night. 

November 11, 1864 

Cloudy and cold. The rebels issued a four-quart kettle 
to our 100. Rice and flour for rations. Finished the fire place. 
No news of importance. Cold night. 

November 12, 1864 

The sun comes out strong, but it is still cold. No news 
today. A fellow makes a bet for $20.00 that he can eat six 
pies, but he gets fooled, as we had no pies. Cold night. 

November 13, 1864 

Pleasant but cold. Beef for rations. Good deal of ex- 
change talk. Very cold night. The swamp frozen over. Could 
not sleep on account of the cold. Nothing but a thin blanket. 

November 14, 1864 

Pleasant but cold. Boys feel discouraged and downhearted 
because no exchange takes place. Rations were middling. 
Com cakes for supper. 

November 15, 1864 

Fine morning. Great talk of exchange going on. Prison 
at Columbus broken up. Rations small, meal. 

27 



November 16, 1864 

Pleasant morning. Corn cakes for breakfast. More 
Yankees took the oath and go out. Stock of exchange low. 

November 17, 1864 

Fine and warm weather. Three hundred Yankees who 
took the oath come back in prison. They are not fit to serve 
the rebels. Went out and got wood. Beef for ration. Stock 
for exchange high. Dandy supper. 

November 18, 1864 

Cloudy and sign of rain. Cleared off at noon. The police 
received clothing. All rice for rations. The Fifth Guard 
leaves for the front. Had the blues bad. 

November 19, 1864 

Cloudy and later rained. Flour and beef for rations. 
Rebel lieutenant finds a tunnel and demands all shovels, else 
we get no rations. Report of Sherman taking Macon. Rainy 
night. 

November 20, 1864 
Still raining and cold. Rations the same. Departure of 
another regiment of rebels. No news. Rain all night. 

November 21, 1864 

Rain very hard. A shanty falls from the efPect of the 
rain and buries a fellow, but he is not hurt. No rations until 
the tunnel is found. Stops raining, but a cold wind blows. 
Cold night and could not sleep. 

November 22, 1864 

Very cold night. Forty-eight hours without anything to 
eat. Boiled old bones for the fourth time to get something 
warm. Growing colder. Could not sleep on account of the 
cold. Great suffering in camp. 

November 23, 1864 

Still very cold. Rations at last. Very hungry. Report 
of hanging of Gov. Brown of Georgia. Sherman cutting rail- 
road. One and a half inches of ice. 

November 24, 1864 
Sun shines and warmer. Poor Thanksgiving Day. Hardly 
a quart mush to eat. Still very cold nights. 

November 25, 1864 

Warmer weather. The rebels* lieutenant counted all men 
in camp. Our boys are knocked on the heads by the guard for 
not marching quickly. Pint of rations, rice. No news. Very 
cold night. 

28 



November 26, 1864 
Pleasant day. Fainted at roll call. Felt very sick. The 
sick getting paroled. One pint of meal for rations. Different 
report of exchange around. 

November 27, 1864 

Fine day. The first thousand going outside to be picked 
out. Some prisoners from Milledgeville and Savannah arrived. 
The sick whose term is up are picked out and paroled. Sold 
my ring. Rations poor. Ring sold for twelve sv/eet potatoes. 
Eating them raw. 

November 28, 1864 

Foggy but warm. Great cheering when the cars left. 
Another thousand were picked out. Met Sergeant May and 
heard some news about the boys. Peck of Co. E died. My 
right eye sore. 

November 29, 1864 

Pleasant day. Five months a prisoner. Fifteen hun- 
dred more of our boys arrived and all paroled. They bring 
different reports why they were not sent through. Heard of 
Tisdale of my company dead. Nine sacks of flour for rations. 
My eye still sore. 

November 30, 1864 

Warm and pleasant. More sick are taken to the hospital. 
The rations were good. Beans once again. Still quiet along 
the line. 

December 1, 1864 

Pleasant but quite fresh. More of the "galvanized" Yan- 
kees come back to camp. The whole camp is counted over 
again. Eye very painful. Light rain at night. ("Galvan- 
ized" Yankee means such traitors who took the oath and joined 
the rebel army.) 

December 2, 1864 

Cleared off and pleasant. General Foster reported be- 
tween Savannah and Charleston and cut the road. Burnside 
near Wilmington, N. C. Rations middling. New moon. 

December 3, 1864 

Pleasant weather. Eight years in the country. The two 
thousand paroled men come back again. Foster burnt the 
bridge. One of the Sixteenth C. V. shot at night. Too close 
to the dead line. Dark night. 

December 4, 1864 

Pleasant day. The camp counted over again. Attended 
service over the dead body of the 16th Conn. boy. All rice 
for rations. Quite cold at night. 

29 



December 5, 1864 

Pleasant weather. Paroling again. One thousand sick 
left the camp. Sergt. Monday of the 103rd Penn. died. Warm 
night. 

December 6, 1864 

Not very pleasant day. All quiet. Molasses once again 
for rations. The red-headed lieutenant raises a company and 
gets twenty recruits the first day. Rain during the night. 

December 7, 1864 

Raining and unpleasant. Three and four thousand are 
picked out to be paroled, also the 5th, 6th and 7th thousands. 
Rice and sweet potatoes for rations. Two hundred of Sher- 
man's men arrived. He is within twenty-six miles of 
Savannah. 

December 8, 1864 

Unpleasant and cold. One thousand to be examined. 
Twelve of our one hundred went. Sent a letter with Sergt. 
Savage, 16th C, to St. Louis. Feel badly about not getting 
away. Cold wind. Meal and potatoes. 



Still very cold, 
and 2nd and 3rd. Meal for rations. 



December 9, 1864 

The first thousand to be examined again 
Stock of exchange high. 



December 10, 1864 

Raining and unpleasant. Report 25,000 to be exchanged, 
which includes all prisoners captured to October. Great thun- 
der shower and rain during the night. Meal and beans for 
rations. 

December 11, 1864 

Sun shines, but still cold. Windy. Storm in the after- 
noon and the coldest night to sleep. Rice and beans for rations. 
Whole camp is counted again. Selected a new 100. 

December 12, 1864 

Very cold. More of the "galvanized" Yankees come back 
in camp. They saw our boat meet exchanged prisoners. 
Six men frozen to death. Rice for rations. Sick call. 

December 13, 1864 

Little warmer. Henry's birthday. Meal for rations. 
The rebels fire off their guns and make a good deal of noise. 
Bought a block of tobacco for 30c and gave it to some of the 
boys anxious for a chew. 

30 



December 14, 1864 

Pleasant day. Picking commenced again. Out of one 
thousand one is left. Meal for rations. Sergt. Wood comes 
tenting with me. 

December 15, 1864 

Pleasant day. The whole camp is counted again. Thirty- 
seven men of Kilpatrick's Cavalry arrived. They report Sher- 
man within eight miles of Savannah. Meal for rations. Re- 
port of Grant fighting Lee for five days. 

December 16, 1864 

Foggy morning. Cleared off toward noon. Heavy cold 
settled on my lungs and bad cough. Report of our 1,000 to 
be mustered. Meal and beans for rations. Some prisoners 
arrived from Salisbury. Hard time there. Sergt. Wood left 
for another bunk. 

December 17, 1864 

Cleared off. Pleasant and warm. Selling bread is 
stopped by the rebels and the boys make raids on the mer- 
chants. Good rations of beans and meal. All quiet. No 
news. 

December 18, 1864 

Fine day and very warm. Some "galvanized" Yankees 
and niggers arrived from Charleston. The Yankees tried to 
take everything away from the darkies, but they gave the 
Yankees a good thrashing. Good breakfast. Exchange news 
dull. Rations small. 

December 19, 1864 

Pleasant day. Did a little washing, but could not wash 
my shirt for fear of going to pieces. Reports of a general 
exchange. Rations one pint of meal and salt. Windy and 
raining during the night. 

December 20, 1864 

Rainy and unpleasant. More of the "galvanized" Yan- 
kees arrived. They were on the railroad between Charleston 
and Savannah. Sherman doing well. They think an exchange 
to commence soon again. Took a fellow to tent with me. 
Two blankets. Rainy night. 

December 21, 1864 

Rainy and windy. Cleared off toward noon, but cold wind 
blows all night. Meal and beans for rations. Slept soundly 
and warm under two blankets. 

31 



December 22, 1864 

Cold day. More "galvanized" Yankees arrived in camp. 
Meal and sweet potatoes for rations. Very cold night. Ice 
frozen two inches thick in our camp. All quiet. 

December 23, 1864 

Little warmer day. Went after wood. Meal and pota- 
toes for rations. All quiet. Cold towards evening. More 
"galvanized" Yankees arrived and a few men from Salisbury. 
Heard two cannon shots at night. 

December 24, 1864 

Still cold weather. Jeff. Davis reported dead. Meal and 
molasses for rations. Warm night. 

December 25, 1864 

Cloudy, but not very cold. The whole camp is counted 
over again. Report of fall of Savannah. A rebel sergeant 
hit me for being unable to get up to have my 100 roll call. 
The rebel sergeant hit me over the head. That was my Xmas 
present. Sorry I did not get his name. Might have a chance 
to get even with him after the war. Had the blues and felt 
sick all day. Cold at night. 

December 26, 1864 

Cloudy and unpleasant. Hood reported badly whipped. 
Meal and potatoes for rations'. My thoughts were home all 
night. 

December 27, 1864 

Unpleasant weather, but cleared towards noon. Meal and 
potatoes for rations. Report of Wilmington being attacked 
by our fleet. Windy and raining during the night, but slept. 

December 28, 1864 

Thunder showers and rain all day. The rebels raised a 
flag within twelve yards of the stockade. Beans, meal and 
potatoes for rations. Could not sleep. 

December 29, 1864 

Very cold again. Six months a prisoner. Meal and 
molasses for rations. No news. 

December 30, 1864 

Not a very pleasant day. Meal and potatoes for rations. 
Report of Sherman being thirty-five miles from Charleston. 
Kilpatrick cut the road between Columbia and Charleston. 

32 



December 31, 1864 

Windy and sign of rain. Report of another exchange of 
10,000. Rain set in in the afternoon and cold wind blowing 
all night. Coldest night yet. 

January 1, 1865 

Terrible night. The whole camp is counted again. Meal, 
molasses and salt for rations. The rebel troops must have 
been moving, as a great deal of noise at night. Cold night. 

January 2, 1865 

Still cold weather. More "galvanized" Yankees come 
back. Report of Sherman. 

January 3, 1865 

Pleasant and not so cold. Molasses and rice for rations. 
Warmer during the night. 

January 4, 1865 

Pleasant but cold. A comrade shot upon getting too 
close to the dead line at night. Eight men sent out of my 
hundred to cut wood. 

January 5, 1865 

Pleasant day. Report of a general exchange. Rations 
the same. 

January 6, 1865 
Rainy all day. Dreamed of my father being very sick. 

January 7, 1865 

Cold. Short rations and no wood to keep warm, while 
plenty to be had outside the stockade. 

January 8, 1865 

Milder weather. The description of our 1,000 is taken. 
Looks as if exchange was near. 

January 9, 1865 
Nothing of importance. 

January 10, 1865 

Rain storm and thunder shower. Meal and sweet pota- 
toes for rations. All quiet. 

January 11, 1865 

Windy and cold. Fever takes our boys away by the hun- 
dred at the hospital. 

33 



January 12, 1865 

Warmer. Report of no exchange until the war is over. 
Tempted by the rebel lieutenant to take the oath, but told him 
never. Rather dead than a traitor. Exposure and hunger 
begin to tell on me. Very weak, but kept up good spirit. 

January 13, 1865 

Anton's birthday. High fever. Roll call. Refused to go 
to the hospital, as I knew it meant death. 

January 14, 1865 
Windy and cold. Felt slightly better. Meal and molasses 
for rations. 

January 15, 1865 
Still cold. Our 1,000 counted over again. Another vic- 
tim of the dead line. In his fever he crossed and was shot. 

January 16, 1865 

Still cold. From Jan. 16th to the 25th too sick to keep up 
daily account. The weather was cold and this was the hardest 
trial of all since prisoner. One of my tent mates left, taking 
a blanket, leaving me only one, but I trusted to God and tried 
hard to be of good spirit. The rebel sergeant kicked me and 
made me fall in for roll call, although I was hardly able to 
stand up. Eleven of my hundred died in a week. 

January 25 to February 5, 1865 

Rations smaller and smaller. No wood furnished to 
cook or keep warm. Boys dying fast. All kinds of rumors 
come in camp. Some of them proved true. At last our day 
had come. 

February 6, 1865 

Our 1,000 left the bull pen. Boys crying and cheering for 
joy to be exchanged. Packed in cars. No room to lie down. 
Took turns. Passed through Wilmington, North Carolina, 
while our force bombarded the town. Citizens and women ex- 
pressed sorrow that we did not die in prison. Passed through 
Goldsborough, Raleigh, Danville and Greensboro. Allowed to 
stay at the last place a whole day to wash ourselves and 
stretch our limbs. Many poor fellows died on this awful trip. 
Actually starved to death. Oh! what a sight. Arrived at 
Richmond, Virginia. 

February 13, 1865 

Quartered at a tobacco warehouse. Covered with filth 
and lice. Some citizens tried to bring us something to eat, 
but the guard would not pass them. Got hold of a loaf of 
bread which a good citizen threw in the window while the 
guard marched with his back toward the building. God bless 
that man. No doubt a Union man. 

34 



February 15, 1865 

Marched through Richmond to the "Rocket," our flag of 
truce boat. On our way down to the river we passed Fort 
Darling and their fortifications. Orders were given to stand 
perfectly still and not move about for fear we strike torpedoes 
planted in the river, which would explode and kill all on board. 
Thank God, we passed those dangerous spots and landed at 
Aiken Landing. Entered our line through the pickets of a 
colored regiment, v/ho assisted those unable to walk, giving 
us a lot of coffee and bread. After marching about two miles 
into our lines we came in sight of our troops in camp and here 
we saw Old Glory again, waving as to welcome us. Never will 
I forget the effects of seeing it again. Poor devils hardly able 
to crawl tried to stand up, some cheering, others crying for joy. 
Our boys actually carried us through the camp, and when at 
our request and by command of the commanding officer, low- 
ered the flag, we rushed for it, kissing it and caressing it like 
children. Officers and men witnessed this scene with tears in 
their eyes. One poor fellow sang out, "Now I am ready to die 
since I saw the old flag again." Remained in camp twenty- 
four hours and left on February 17th by boat to Annapolis 
Junction, the exchange camp. Were quartered in barracks, 
drew fresh clothing and got sixty dollars back ration money. 
Under doctor's care and kept strictly to the rations furnished 
by Uncle Sam, while my two companions, Henry Baker, Fifth 
Pa. Cavalry, and Anton Burkemeyer, of my company, made the 
terrible mistake by filling up with good things and died, after 
going through the terrible hardship with me for eight months, 
poor comrades. Having the address of their relatives, one in 
Philadelphia and the other in Litchfield, Conn., I notified them 
of their terrible fate. Met some of our regiment boys at 
parole camp, giving me news of the regiment and its good 
work while I was a prisoner. 

Remained at camp, parolled until February 23rd. Got 
mustered for back pay and received $244.00. Too sick to 
proceed on to the hospital at New Haven, I stopped over at 
Baltimore with my friend, George Roth. He and his wife 
cried when they saw me a shadow of my former self. My 
trip to New York and New Haven is fully given in the type- 
written copy of the Brooklyn Eagle, December 23, 1887. V/ith 
the best of care at the Knight Hospital in New Haven I soon 
got better. Old friends furnished me, after the doctor gave 
them permission to, with good dishes to eat, and many a poor, 
sick comrade shared those blessings with me. There was not 
a day but what Mrs. Katch, Mrs. Stockel, Alberti, Mrs. Schwab 
and many others called. As I grew stronger they took me 
carriage riding, doing all they could for me to get me on my 
feet a well and hearty man. 

35 



Rejoined my regiment March 28th, 1865, near Peters- 
burgh, Virginia, just in time to attend the "finishing up" of 
Lee's army. Our regiment escorted Grant to the McLean 
house, Appomatox, to meet and arranged surrender of Lee 
and his army. Two hours afterward we emptied our haver- 
sacks to the poor, starving Confederates. The best of feeling 
prevailed on our side toward our brave enemies. On our way 
the news of Johnson's surrender reached us, and from there 
on it was homeward bound, singing "Glory, Hallelujah, as We 
Go Marching On." The great review in Washington before 
President Johnson is well known to everybody. Our regiment, 
or what was left of us, about 367 men, joined in the search for 
Booth, the assassin of our noble Lincoln, and arrived one hour 
at the scene after Corbett shot Booth, the barn still burning 
and Booth, the murderer, lying dead on the porch. 

Doing provost duty in Washington until July, we at last 
were to return home, being the only regiment of Custer's com- 
mand allowed to go home on horseback. At Jersey City the 
steamer "Elm City" took us aboard, and we entered New 
Haven 375 strong out of 1,200 on muster roll at 5 P. M., August 
4th. The militia and different societies turned out to receive 
us. It was our gala day and still a sad one for many of us as 
we noticed many men and women standing on the sidewalk 
weeping for those comrades and brave men who remained 
behind on the battle field and in the hospitals. The city gave 
us a banquet at the State House, and the citizens could not do 
enough to show us their gratitude. Next day we turned our 
horses and equipment over to the United States Government, 
and on August 5th received my honorable discharge. 

Left for New York to seek employment on August 15th, 
and entered the service of Althof Bergman & Company, a 
wholesale toy and fancy goods concern on Maiden Lane on 
August 20th. Remained with the house until May, 1884. 
Shortly afterward they failed in business, to my great sorrow. 



36 



Sketches and Echoes, 1864-1865 

How I gave up my watch : Captured at Ream's Station, 
Virginia, during a heavy cavalry fight, we had to turn horses' 
equipment over and were marched to Stony Creek in the 
broiling sun. Although knowing that the rebels had no regard 
as to treating prisoners of war, I made the foolish mistake to 
show my watch to one of the boys asking the time of the day. 
The guard, a South Carolina subject, seeing this, demanded 
my watch and chain which, of course, I flatly refused. Shortly 
afterward I noticed his approach with an officer. I got ready 
for this "watch delivery" by securing a big stone. By the 
time the officer reached me, asking for the watch, I had it 
smashed to pieces on the stone, telling the officer, "Help your- 
self, here it is." Somewhat disappointed and a few not very 
pleasant remarks between us, officer and guards fell back, 
snatching a fine slouch hat from my head, leaving his in 
return. Not a fair exchange, but I had to be thankful for that 
much when I think now what was in store for me in Ander- 
sonville without a hat in the broiling sun. 



37 



Three Months' Service 

Company B, Bridgeport Rifles 

1st Conn. Infantry 



Fort Sumpter was fired upon April 9, 1861, and on the 
15th I wore the blue blouse of Uncle Sam, along with eleven 
other friends, and, as far as that goes, perhaps thousands. 
The boys enlisting had an idea that in three months we would 
finish the rebels to a finish, and all of us anticipated a good 
"outing." As to the outing, we were always on the alert for 
fun; full of life, never dreaming that the outing would last 
four years. We embarked on the steamer "Bienville" off the 
Long Wharf in New Haven. Above Alexandria, Va., then in 
the hands of the rebels, a steamer approached us from Wash- 
ington, and on the upper deck stood Abe Lincoln, our noble 
President, along with his son Robert, and Seward, Secretary 
of State, coming to meet us. 

His brief speech of welcome was received with cheers, the 
band playing "Hail to the Chief." While quartered near 
Washington, I often had the pleasure of seeing him as witness 
to our dress parade. Considering the short time in camp at 
New Haven, from April to the end of May, the regiment got 
to be "one of the best," well drilled and of good morale. Our 
Captain, Chas. Speidel, later on Lieut.-Colonel of the 6th Conn, 
and wounded at Fort Wagner, S. C, made "experts" of Com- 
pany B as to skirmish drills and exercise, which showed good 
effect and reputation on the advance of General McDowell's 
army, doing skirmish duty all the way from Falls Church, 
Virginia, to Fairfax Court House. Here I saw the "first" 
rebel and rebel flag flying over the court house. The rebels 
retiring in good order, our artillery fired a few "parting" shots, 
and in we marched towards Bull Run at Centerville, July 19th. 

The Brigade formed a square and General Taylor's order 
to the effect that any regiment or battery whose time of enlist- 
ment (three months) had expired should step to the front in 
case they wished to return home. His proclamation that we 
are about to "meet the enemy" in battle had its good effects, 
as "not a single man" stepped to the front. 

The next following Sunday after the battle of Bull Run, 
July 21, 1861, we were back in New Haven, telling friends 
about the battle and the "double quick" movement from the 
battlefield. 

38 



As to my idea of a joyous outing when I enlisted, I give 
one instance to show that lots of fun was in store for us. As 
stated before, Captain Speidel, every inch a soldier, made his 
Company B a "specialty" as to skirmish drilling. While out 
on this particular drill in May through a splendid grove of 
high trees and a road house where the "Wurzburger" flows 
one hot afternoon, the boys began to "rally on the center" by 
left and right oblique. The objective "center" was the road 
house. The Captain, noticing this "move," gave the order to 
his bugler, Flynn, "sound the assembly." The bugler smiled 
and coming to a salute said, "Captain, what's the use, the boys 
are all here," and so we were, after a few rounds. The bugle 
sounded again and off we went on the jump, obeying the com- 
mand, to the great delight of our beloved Captain. 

"A CLOSE SHAVE" 

On June 1st, 1864, we had a heavy brush with the rebels 
at Ashland, Virginia. While on the march our rear, not prop- 
erly protected, was pounced upon unexpectedly by Fitzhugh 
Lee's cavalry, and a fight through the woods as we fell back 
was the outcome. My regiment lost quite a number of men 
and officers. Forming in an open field near the town and 
railroad the fight continued. Repulsing several charges of the 
rebels, trying to get in our rear, hearing a call for water at 
the firing line of my company, I handed mine and four more 
canteens belonging to others to one of the men to get them 
filled from a well near by. This done, I hung my canteen over 
the shoulders, when Corporal Th. Flanigan asked me for a 
drink. I leaned over to let him drink out of my canteen, 
within easy reach from his saddle. While drinking he dropped 
the canteen, tumbling to the ground, shot through the head. 
A braver and better soldier than he never lived. 

RIDE TOWARD THE REBEL LINE 

The night after the battle of Cedar Mountain near Cul- 
pepper, Virginia, August 9, 1862, our company was ordered 
to the extreme front of our army on picket duty, the rebel 
picket within sight. After losing my good horse Sibbe I got 
hold of one I baptized "Larry," an ugly looking creature with 
a long head and a mouth as hard as a rock. Experiencing 
several attempts to stop him when on the run was a hard task, 
he closing up on his bit, paying no attention to my reins. On 
this particular early morning he took a notion to visit the 
rebel line, to which I, of course, objected. Off he started. 
The enemy pickets began peppering away at me, but were 
kept in bay by my comrades following me. Seeing a gate 
leading to a house that I thought wide open, I, with great 
effort, succeeded in steering him toward the house. The gate 
was open, but not far enough to admit me and "Larry." I 
struck the post, my saddle broke, and down came rider and 

39 



saddle in a heap while "Larry" stopped his run and began 
grazing as if nothing had happened. My right leg striking 
the post was badly bruised, and while my comrades still kept 
the "johnnies busy," some of them helped me back into our 
line. It is useless to say that "Larry" was transferred to do 
quartermaster duty with the supply train. It took two weeks 
to enable me to obey the command again. 

"Prepare to mount, mount this time on a better horse." 

SIBBI, MY SWEETHEART 

It is a well-known fact that most all soldiers left a sweet- 
heart when marching to the seat of war to the tune of "The 
Girl I Left Behind Me." A girl even claimed more than 
"one." As the story goes, she was standing on the sidewalk 
crying bitterly as a regiment passed by. Asked by a venerable 
old gentleman whether she was crying because her sweetheart 
was leaving her, she answered, "Yes, all seven of them." The 
acquaintance of my girl, whose name was "Mare," I made 
while I camped at Meriden, Connecticut, in October, 1861. 
She was a beauty, large brown eyes, very attractive as to 
slender form, finely shaped head, broad shoulders and had four 
legs. She responded to my attachment by being gentle, and 
in course of time proved to be a valuable companion of mine. 
She would follow me like a pet dog, answer my calling while 
out in a pasture amongst many horses at day or night, by run- 
ning up to me when duty called. I could safely sit on her 
hind legs while she was lying down at night. If a stranger 
tried this, I venture to say he could not sit on anything for 
some time. On the march, she kept my rear men from coming 
too close by a gentle reminder with her hind legs. Hearing 
me eating a cracker she came to a halt, looking around, and 
would not move on until I gave her a "bite," often parting with 
my last cracker. 

While in active service in West Virginia she prevented 
my being taken prisoner while scouting or foraging by taking 
a four-foot fence with ease on several occasions. But the best 
of friends must part. The morning after the battle of Cross 
Keys, June 9, 1862, I missed her. The army falling back 
towards Winchester, some scoundrel stole her, equipment and 
all, during the night. I felt the loss of my best friend very 
keenly and never in my four years cavalry service got hold of 
a horse equal to "Sibbi," my sweetheart. 



40 



.'^ 



"Morgen roth, morgen roth, 
Leuchtet mir zum friihen todt, 
Gestem noch auf stolzem rosse, 
Heute durch die brust geschossen, 
Morgen in das kiihle grab." 

The proof of this beautiful German soldier song I experi- 
enced to my great sorrow in 1864. While four companies of 
my regiment, A, B, C and D, were camped at Bolivar Heights, 
a suburb of Harpers Ferry, Virginia, we came in contact with 
Colt's cavalry of Maryland scouting together, playing "hide- 
and-go-seek" with Mosby, notorious guerilla, through the 
Shenandoah and Louden valleys. During October, 1863, to 
February, 1864, to my surprise and pleasure, I met in Company 
A of this brave regiment, a George Young, a school comrade of 
mine, while attending the mercantile school of Dr. Schirmer 
in Wiesbaden, my native town. It stands to reason that we 
made good use of our acquaintance whenever opportunity 
offered itself. His command was stationed at Louden Heights, 
across the river from Harpers Ferry. ' Near my camp at 
Bolivar Heights lived a German family by the name of Will, 
staunch Union people. It was my good luck to fall in with 
this family and some of their friends and neighbors, German 
and Union people. In my Company B, 1st Conn. Cavalry, we 
had about eleven Germans, all from New Haven, friends of 
long acquaintance. Very often we had a good dinner at Wills' 
house, enjoying home-made cooking, home-made cider, and 
for this we always paid. To these affairs I had Young as my 
guest many times. It was a second home for us, enjoying a 
dance and other sociable events. Their home, situated on the 
road to the Shenandoah River, where we rode twice a day, 

jwatering the horses, had a big tree in front of the house. 

[My horse would always go for that tree. Why? It preferred 
a clean drink to the muddy water of the Shenandoah, which 
was offered by their fair daughter "Kathie," giving me a 
chance for a pleasant chat until the troops returned, v/hen 
horse and rider fell into line on the way back to camp. It is 
useless to say that I never prqyented my horse from making 
that tree a "half way" station. 

The birthday of Katie Will fell on January 8, 1864, and 
some of my comrades and I were invited to supper and a 
dance. I extended this invitation to my friend Young, and 
getting a furlough up to 12 at night, he was only too glad to 
join me. We had a glorious time, dancing, singing, drinking 
"home-made cider"' the best the country could afford under the 
circumstances. ' George was good company, full of life and 
animation. I see him yet today, waving his hat, saying "Good 
night" on his horse on the way to his camp. Others and I 
remained about one hour longer, having only a short distance 
to walk to reach camp. Acting First Sergeant of my company, 

41 



my tent was near Captain Goodwin's, commander of the 4tli 
Company headquarters. About 3 o'clock I heard the trot of 
a galloping horse over frozen ground toward our camp. Know- 
ing from experience that something was up I jumped, dressed 
quickly, when I heard the guard calling out, "Halt, who comes 
there." The answer came, "Who and where is the commanding 
officer?" The courier dismounted, delivering a despatch to 
Captain Goodwin. Then the order came to me: "Sergeant, 
let the bugler sound 'boots and saddles.' " This order was 
quickly executed and in less than half an hour we were on a 
gallop down the road to Harpers Ferry, over the Shenandoah 
Bridge, up the hill to Louden County and Colt's camp. Mos- 
by's man sneaked through the pickets, attacking Colt's cavalry 
in their camp, killing and wounding many. The brave Mary- 
landers rallied, drove Mosby out of the camp, pursuing them 
down the road toward Rectortown, when we joined Colts' cav- 
alry. They gave three rousing cheers. Mosby, the sneak, 
knew what the cheering was about and made haste in getting 
away to Rectortown, being reinforced by Imboden. They 
made a stand and a regular fight was on. The rebels, being 
repulsed with heavy loss, they broke ranks, the squads scat- 
tered in different directions — one of Mosby's old trick — and the 
fight was over. I came across Company A of Colts' cavalry, 
inquiring about their loss, killed and wounded. The bugler, 
a little Frenchman, knowing of my acquaintance with George 
Young, told me the terrible news. Your friend is lying in this 
house over there, shot through the heart. Rushing over to the 
spot I found the story to be only too true. Here he was, the 
friend who only left me a few hours ago, full of life and 
vigor, dead and gone. 

The news of his death was a terrible shock to the Will 
family and their neighbors. It has been my good fortune, 
accompanied by my son Walter and dear wife to visit Bolivar 
Heights in 1917, showing them the spot where Wills lived, 
Halltown, a place I stood picketing many times, and several 
places of interest of my war days. I never dreamed at that 
time that this great pleasure would be in store for me so many 
years after the war. 



42 



REUNION AND PEACE ON THE BATTLEFIELD OF 

YELLOW TAVERN, VA., SIX MILES FROM 

RICHMOND. IN SEPTEMBER, 1871 

It had been my good fortune while travelhng south as a 
"commercial tourist," or, in plain words, a "drummer," right 
after the war, to fall in with a class of gentlemen such as 
Messrs. E. Osterloh, Krunz, Bochmer, Euker, Philips, some of 
them serving in the rebel army during the war in the home 
guards of Richmond. It was not good policy for me, while 
out on business, to speak about me serving in the Union army. 
On one of our sociable gatherings, Saturday evening at Wm. 
Eucker's house the topic about the war came up, and I listened 
to the interesting talk of adventures and action. Some of the 
gentlemen went through, especially Mr. Carl Euker, giving an 
account of the battle of Yellow Tavern, May 11, 1864, between 
Stuart's Cavalry and Phil. Sheridan's Cavalry Corp, in which 
my regiment served first brigade, 3rd division, commanded 
by Gen. Geo. Custer. He tried to make the affair as a mild 
encounter, the Confederates withdrawing in good order, losing 
but few men, amongst the killed the brave J. E. B. Stuart. I 
know better. It certainly was the biggest thrashing Stuart's 
cavalry ever had, driving them in confusion from the field of 
battle, scattered in all directions. It went against my grain to 
hear such a statement and informed the party that I begged to 
differ. This seemed to be a "big" surprise to my friends, who 
wanted to know what I knew about this affair. I then told 
them that they entertained one of the Yankee cavalry right in 
their midst, very much "present" at the battle. After more 
argument I proposed, the next day being Sunday, to visit the 
battlefield on horseback, starting in the forenoon. This was 
agreed upon, and Sunday morning saw twelve gentlemen leav- 
ing Richmond on the road heading to Yellow Tavern. As we 
went along I pointed out our positions, where the artillery was 
posted, the Squirrel Ridge Road, Strawberry Hill, Meadow 
Bridge, and gave such a correct account of the fight to fully 
convince them of my taking part in this mild affair. That 
part of the program over, we started "homeward bound," the 
best of feeling prevailing. Near the ruins of Yellow Tavern 
a "half way station" or road house, the party concluded to 
have dinner then and there. Of course it is natural that wine 
goes well with a good dinner, and we had lots of it. It turned 
out to be a genuine peace jubilee between the boys in grey and 
the boys in blue. Mr. Carl Euker, the very man who tried to 
dwindle down the battle as a "mild affair," proposed the first 
toast to one of the Yankee boys now with us, not as a prisoner, 
but as a friend, now and forever. My response, telling them 
of the great pleasure to be with them and toasting the brave 
soldiers of Lee and Stuart from the bottom of my heart. I 
gave the keynote to great applause and more wine. To make 
the story short, the fine body of men starting out on horseback 

43 



came back to the city in carriages, simply over-tired and over- 
whelmed at this great reunion. From that time on, visiting 
Richmond twice a year, a rousing welcome always awaited me. 
Many pleasant hours we spent together, and on my way to 
Atlanta, Georgia, on business in 1890, we (my dear wife being 
with me) stopped at Richmond and a reception was tendered 
us such as the Southern people only can extend. Carl Euker 
drove us over old battle grounds and all points of interest. 

Carl Euker presented me with two war pictures, which 
I admired so much that I, in turn, forwarded a photograph 
representing surviving members of Company B, 1st Conn. Cav- 
alry, taken at one of our reunions. New Haven, Conn. 
Acknowledging the receipt of this picture, he wrote whether 
I knew a man by the name of Coleman of my regiment, whom 
he had the honor of capturing on May 12th, the day after the 
Yellow Tavern fight. 1 informed him that his victim belonged 
to my company, and appeared on the picture the only man with 
a cane in his hand, and explained his suffering at Belle Island 
while prisoner. I received a letter which I will never part 
with, keeping it as a family relic for my children after I am 
dead and gone. He expressed his great sorrow for Coleman's 
suffering and his willingness to help him. He also gave his 
full pledge of loyalty to our united country and his hope of 
meeting Coleman some day. My dear wife, always ready to 
give me pleasure in any form, arranged the biggest surprise 
party for me I ever experienced. She informed my good friend 
and comrade, Chas. F. Bollmann, also a member of my com- 
pany, to hunt up Tom Coleman, living in West Haven, and 
bring him along on my birthday, March 16th. Also invited 
Carl Euker in Richmond to participate and arranged all to 
meet at my father-in-law's house, 336 Putnam avenue, not far 
from my residence. 

About 8 P. M., answering the door bell, I opened the door, 
when Carl Euker, Chas. Bollmann and last, but not least, Tom 
Coleman, marched in on me. It is impossible for me to de- 
scribe my feeling. I was overcome and unable to utter a 
word, tears streaming down my face. It was a birthday cele- 
bration for fair, more of my friends calling to congratulate. 
Next day Bollmann and I had a picture taken sitting at a table 
covered by "Old Glory" in the center, while Euker and Cole- 
man stand shaking hands as friends and comrades over the 
flag. The party went to New Haven, visiting Coleman's family 
and other places of interest. Comrade Bollmann, Chief of 
Police at the time, did up our "visit" in fine style. Euker and 
Coleman corresponded together for many years, while it was 
my good luck to greet Euker at my residence whenever he 
came to New York. He died as a commander of the Confed- 
erate Home, Richmond, Virginia, where the picture of the 
reunion of Company B, First Conn. Cavalry, can be seen today 
at the museum of the Confederate home. 

44 



ANDERSONVILLE as it was in 1864— Mr. Phillip Koem- 
pel describes his Capture, Exchange and Discharge — 
The Stockade and the Dead Line — Trial, Conviction and Exe- 
cution — Price Current List — Freedom After Nine Months. 

The great conflict between the two sections of our mighty- 
nation now seems, to look back upon it, like a romance. Even 
those who participated in it have at times some difficulty, after 
the lapse of these many years, in realizing that some, at least, 
of its experiences were not a dream. Of these experiences the 
life of a prisoner at Andersonville was, perhaps, the most 
weird and unnaturally horrid of any. To be one of a com- 
pany which numbered at one time over thirty thousand men, 
confined for nine months in a pen, twenty-two acres in extent, 
without any shelter whatever, was an experience that prob- 
ably never had a parallel, and will never be repeated. I met 
a gentleman in Brooklyn recently who had just this experience 
in Andersonville. Though much has been written about this 
Confederate prison, I felt sure that the story told by a fellow 
townsman whose intelligence and habits of observation well 
fitted him for the task would prove interesting. Mr. Phillip 
Koempel is a resident of Putnam Avenue and is connected with 
one of the large commission houses in New York, in the dry 
goods district. When I asked him for his recollections of 
Andersonville Prison he hunted up a diary which he kept 
throughout the war, and with this he refreshed his memoiy 
as he went along. 

"I was captured," said Mr. Koempel, "at Reams Station, 
Va., on June 29th, 1864. My regiment was the First Conn. 
Cavalry, which was in General Wilson's division. We had 
quite a brush with the Johnnies on that occasion, and I noticed 
one of my comrades fell from his horse, so I dismounted, 
slipped the reins over my arm and was about to render him 
assistance, when, in a second, the enemy appeared on all sides 
and I found myself a prisoner with about sixty others of my 
regiment. The same night my horse was taken from me, my 
new cavalry slouch hat was appropriated by a Confederate ; a 
new watch they tried to take, and our captors taunted us by 
saying that we would be sent to a place from which we 
wouldn't get away in a hurry. After we started for Ander- 
sonville we were in charge of Lieut. Taylor, of the Sixty-ninth 
North Carolina Regiment, who treated us like gentlemen. 
We received a ration of seven crackers and were made as com- 
fortable as circumstances would allow. At Augusta our guard 
was changed and we did not fare as well. At Macon I recall 
a peculiar incident. When I got off the train I noticed a lady 
sitting in the window of a house opposite who was crying bit- 
terly. By and by she came dov/n and asked the commander 
of our guard if she could serve coffee to the prisoners. Con- 
sent was given and we each had a good steaming cup of coffee. 
I never knew who the lady was or what was the cause of her 

45 



grief; but we remembered her kind act forever afterward. 
I arrived at Andersonville on July 6, 1864. We were placed 
in companies of four and searched. When the four ahead of 
me had gone through this process I stepped one pace ahead 
and the Johnny did not notice that I had not been searched. 
I vras thus enabled to take into prison a leather roll that I had 
carried on back of my saddle. This contained a rubber blan- 
ket, which was worth more than its weight in gold, a revolver, 
and, best of all, a quantity of coffee and sugar mixed together 
and ready for boiling. The latter I could afterward have sold 
at the rate of 25 cents a teaspoonful. When the searching 
was completed we were turned into the pen as cattle are 
turned into a field, except that no good farmer would have his 
cattle in a field without even a tree to shelter them. 

"The stockade was composed of unhewn logs and was 
erected by the slaves belonging on the neighboring plantations. 
Dirt was thix)wn up around the base of the logs and their tops 
were roughly pointed with an axe. At a distance of 100 feet 
another stockade of the same kind, but only 12 feet high, was 
erected as a protection for the inner one. The prison proper 
was 1,540 feet long and 750 feet wide. Within these limits 
no buildings, barracks, houses or huts of any kind were built. 
Not a tree was left nor a brush to relieve the general appear- 
ance of barrenness. The hot sun of the summer, the drench- 
ing rains and bitter cold of winter found the great mass of 
prisoners entirely without shelter of any kind. My rubber 
blanket came in very handy. We put up a couple of sticks 
and stretched the blanket over them, thus making a shelter 
which was luxurious in comparison with the situation of 
others. Being a Sergeant I was placed over 100 men. I had 
their names upon a list and was obliged to parade the men 
every morning and to report upon their condition. The pain- 
ful duty connected with this position was collecting the dead 
and arranging them for burial. I would tie their feet to- 
gether and lay their hands over the breast. Sometimes this 
would be extremely difficult to do, owing to the fact that their 
limbs had become terribly distorted in their death struggles. 
A paper pinned fast to the shirt gave the name and the regi- 
ment to which the deceased belonged. The bodies collected in 
the morning would be laid near the main gate, and would then 
be put into an ordinary box wagon and taken to the cemetery. 
On a certain morning in August, 1864, I counted 150 bodies 
thus awaiting burial and which had been collected that morn- 
ing. I remember men came into the prison strong and robust, 
who became so much discouraged over their trials and priva- 
tions that they sickened and died in ten days. It would seem 
probable that in such a great mass of men an epidemic of 
fever would break out, but such was not the case. Men had 
either diarrhea, dysentery or scurvy, and of these they died 
in great numbers. A good deal of time was consumed in rid- 

46 



ding ourselves of lice, which were a great pest. The daily 
routine of prison life would be relieved by all sorts of rumors 
which somehow or another would get into the prison. One of 
these was that Jeff Davis was dead, another that Richmond 
has fallen, and so on. 

"When fresh prisoners arrived the men would crowd 
around the main gate to learn the latest news. The crowding 
seemed to frighten Captain Wirz, the Superintendent of the 
Prison, and he put up poles, flying white flags, marking a line 
beyond which the prisoners were not to go. He also fired a 
shell from a six-gun battery opposite the entrance, with the 
warning that if the crowding continued the next shell would 
explode in the prison enclosure. For a week I was detailed to 
assist in clerical work at Wirz's office. He was a repulsive 
looking man, being in height five feet eight inches, with a 
slender, weasened form and stooping shoulders. His features 
were pinched and disagreeable, rendered the more strikingly 
disagreeable by a light grey eye surmounted by a heavy, pro- 
truding brow. He never came into the stockade except with 
a pistol in his hand and accompanied by a guard. The career 
of this merciless man and the expiration of his many crimes 
upon the gallows is probably familiar to all. New men coming 
into prison would sometimes smuggle in newspapers, and 
these would be passed around and read until they fell to pieces 
from much handling. On July 20, 1864, tvv^o men escaped by 
the tunnel which had been dug under the stockade. This made 
great excitement. No rations were issued to the prisoners 
for two days in order to coerce them into telling where the 
tunnel was located. When this failed Wirz sent men into the 
stockade to hammer the earth with iron bars, thinking to find 
the tunnel in this way. It is a strange fact, as exhibiting the 
weakness to which our men were reduced, that a prisoner, for 
the promise of an extra ration, told where the tunnel was. 

"At first the dead line was indicated by a furrow made by 
a plow and located twelve feet from the stockade. All pris- 
oners were informed that to pass that line meant instant 
death. I have known men to get up and to wander about in 
the delirium of disease or troubled sleep, cross the line, and in 
an instant the bullet of the guard on the stockade would launch 
them into eternity. Afterward a low fence was put up and 
on this men, without thinking, would hang their blankets, and 
going to get them after night would be shot. Rations 
would be served between four and five in the afternoon. These 
usually consisted of corn bread and beans. Sometimes the 
com bread contained portions of the cob, and was very bad, 
especially for men suffering from disease. When the men 
became crowded acts of lawlessness among the prisoners were 
of frequent occurrence. Cooking utensils, blankets, and other 
articles would be stolen by men reduced to desperation by their 
long confinement. Accordingly a regular police force from 

47 



the prisoners was organized. There was a Superintendent, 
Captain, Sergeant and Roundsmen. Each man was armed 
with a club and wore a tin badge, to designate him as a mem- 
ber of the force. Offenders would be reported at headquarters 
for stealing rations or similar offenses, and they would be cut 
off from one day's rations, put into the stocks or compelled to 
do some disagreeable work about the prison. Some men were 
strung up by the thumbs until they repented of their offenses. 
At one time there was a company of very desperate men in 
the prison. It was charged that they had not only been guilty 
of robberies, but also of murder. A sutler was missed who 
had considerable money, and his body was afterward found 
buried beneath the tent occupied by the accused men. By 
consent of the prison authorities a jury trial was held, con- 
ducted by the prisoners. There were a number of good law- 
yers on hand, who took care that everything was done that 
could be done to secure justice. A jury was secured, counsel 
for both sides were agreed upon and the trial proceeded. The 
result was that six men were convicted of murdering the 
sutler and were sentenced to be hanged. The findings of the 
court were forwarded to our Government and approved. Then 
preparations Vv^ere made for carrying out the sentence. A 
rude scaffold was erected at a point where every man in the 
prison could see it. It was a very primitive, shaky affair, 
but it held the six poor, trembling creatures who were to be 
executed upon it. There was no silk caps at this execution, 
meal sacks were substituted for them. The boards upon 
which the men stood, at a given signal were pulled out and 
they were suspended in mid air. One rope broke and the 
poor fellow ran a few rods, but was brought back and, on a 
second attempt, was successfully executed. Then the pris- 
oners passed in procession and looked at the faces of the dead 
men. This summary execution had a good effect, and there 
was less lawlessness and life was no longer in danger, at least 
not from the prisoners themselves. At one time we were told 
by the prison authorities that we could write home for things 
that we needed. I did so, and a friend in Brooklyn sent me a 
package of good things, which would have been a godsend had 
it reached me, which it never did. I know of many others 
who had a similar experience. There was a regular schedule 
price for articles in the prison, and I recorded a few of them 
in my diary as follows: "Salt, per teaspoonful, 25 cents; 
soap, per inch, 25 cents ; watermelon, $2 to $3 ; Irish potatoes, 
$1.25 per dozen; onions, $2.50 per dozen; eggs, $3 per dozen; 
meal rations, 10 cents to 25 cents ; green corn, per ear, 35 cents ; 
beans, 35 cents per pint ; shaving or hair cut, 15 cents ; Yankee 
coffee and sugar, 25 cents per spoonful ; half plug of tobacco, 
25 cents. 

"From $6 to $10 of Confederate money was given for $1 
in greenbacks. Wirz had a pack of blood hounds to chase 

48 



prisoners. At one time the pack numbered twenty-two, while 
there were other volunteer packs within a distance of 20 miles 
of the prison. The encounters of the poor, emaciated prisoner 
with these ferocious animals form a chapter too harrowing to 
dwell upon. I said that the prisoners were entirely without 
shelter ; some of the men soon verified the saying that neces- 
sity is the mother of invention. They dug holes in the slopes 
of the hill large enough to allow four men to lie down close to 
each other. The dirt taken out of the excavation was appro- 
priated by others to plaster up the shanties they had erected 
of poles and brush secured from outside the prison. After 
eight months in Andersonville a number of prisoners, includ- 
ing myself, were removed to Charleston, S. C. At first we 
were confined in that portion of the city which was being 
shelled by General Gelmour, but were afterward removed to 
the Fair Grounds and then to Florence, S. C. This was an 
enclosure similar to Andersonville, but not as large. The 
trees and underbrush had been cut down, but not cleared away, 
which supplied us with partial shelter and firewood. Ten 
thousand men were confined here, and here I saw my darkest 
days. A companion left the prison, taking with him the only 
blanket that we had. We felt the loss terribly. I was too 
sick at one time to answer to roll call or to keep up my diary, 
but I rallied and got on my feet again. Some of the men 
went out and took the oath of allegiance, but there were not 
many. Raw sweet potatoes were considered at this time a 
great luxury. Here we were interested in getting the reports 
from the Presidential election. A vote was taken in the 
prison and Uncle Abe was overwhelmingly re-elected. I used 
to go down to the creek and wash my shirt and put it on wet 
and sit in the sun until it dried. I attribute my survival of 
the great privations of prison life to the care I took of myself 
in the matter of cleanliness and keeping myself in a hopeful 
frame of mind. Men who became despondent lost care of 
themselves and seemed really to court death. It was wonder- 
ful how checker boards, cards, dominoes and chess were im- 
provised and with what earnestness some men went into these 
pastimes. You would pass one group who were merrily sing- 
ing and then come within the sound of men moaning, who 
were in the agonies of death. 

"At last, after nine month's of imprisonment we were 
exchanged. Our troubles were not over, however. My two 
companions through all my prison life were so indiscreet as to 
eat hearily of canned fruit, which they procured from the 
sutler immediately upon their release, and within two days 
they were both dead men. The sudden change from hard 
prison fare was too much for them, and their emaciated 
bodies immediately succumbed. I stuck to Uncle Sam's rations 
and gained strength slowly, but I was reduced much lower 
than I had supposed. I went to Annapolis Junction and then 

49 



got permission to proceed to the hospital at New Haven, Conn. 
When I got to the New York side of Cortlandt Street Ferry I 
fell senseless to the street. The Sanitary Commission had a 
place near by, and they were on the lookout for soldiers need- 
ing help. They picked me up and I finally revived under their 
treatment. After spending a few weeks with a friend in 
Brooklyn I went to New Haven. Entering a restaurant of a 
friend who had known me well before the war, I ordered a cup 
of coffee, and he came and sat by my side at the table. 

"What Regim.ent do you belong to?" he asked. 

"First Connecticut Cavalry," I replied. 

"Do you know whatever became of Sergeant Koempel?'* 

"I am Sergeant Koempel," I said, and the man looked aa 
if he had been struck dumb. I then realized how much I must 
have changed. 

"I have revisited Andersonville since the war, walked 
over the territory included in that awful stockade and read 
the names of some of my companions in the cemetery there. 
It is difficult to realize that 33,872 men were received in the 
prison, and that of this number 12,872 died. The largest num- 
ber of men in the prison on any day was August 9, 1864, when 
there were 33,006. Notwithstanding the very complete pre- 
cautions of the prison authorities 328 men managed to escape 
at various times. 

FROM THE BROOKLYN DAILY EAGLE, DEC. 23rd 1887. 



50 



GENERAL CUSTER'S CONGRATULATIONS 



Headquarters Third Cavalry Division, M. M. D., 

October 21st, 1864. 
Soldiers of the Third Cavalry Division: 

With pride and gratitude your commanding general congratulates you 
upon your glorious achievements of the past few days. On the 9th of 
this month you attacked a vastly superior force of the enemy's cavalry, 
strongly posted with artillery in position, and commanded by that famous 
"Savior of the Valley," Rosser. Notwithstanding the enemy's superiority 
in numbers and position, you drove him twenty miles from the battle- 
field, capturing his artillery, six pieces in all, also his entire train of 
wagons and ambulances, and a large number of prisoners. Again, during 
the memorable engagement of the 19th instant, your conduct throughout 
was sublimely heroic, and without a parallel in the annals of warfare. 
In the early part of the day, when disaster and defeat seemed to threaten 
our noble army upon all sides, your calm and determined bravery, while 
exposed to a terrible fire from the enemy's guns, added not a little to 
restore confidence to that portion of our army already broken and driven 
back on the right. Afterward transferred rapidly from the right flank 
to the extreme left, you materially and successfully assisted in defeating 
the enemy in his attempt to turn the left flank of our army. Again, 
ordered upon the right flank, you attacked and defeated a division of the 
enemy's cavalry, driving him in confusion across Cedar Creek, then chang- 
ing your front to the left at a gallop, you charged and turned the left 
flank of the enemy's line of battle, and pursued his broken and demoral- 
ized army a distance of five miles. Night alone put a stop to your 
pursuit. Among the substantial fruits of this great victory you can boast 
of having captured five battle-flags, a large number of prisoners including 
Major-General Ramsuer, and forty-five of the forty-eight pieces of 
artillery taken from the enemy on that day, thus making fifty-one pieces 
of artillery which you have captured from the enemy within the short 
period of ten days. This is a record of which you may well be proud, a 
record won and established by your gallantry and perseverance. You 
have surrounded the name of the Third Cavalry Division with a halo of 
glory as enduring as time. The history of this war, when truthfully 
written, will contain no brighter page than that upon which is recorded 
the chivalrous deeds, the glorious triumphs, of the soldiers of this division. 

G. A. Custer, 
Brigadier-General, Commanding. 
Official : 

(Signed.) S. Siebert, 
Headquarters First Brigade Third Cavalry Division, A. A. G. 

October 28, 1864. 
Official : 

David Fairly, 

Captain and A. A. A. G. 



A true copy printed from the official manuscript, August, 1882, at 
Washington, D. C. 

E. W. Whitaker, 
Late Lieut.-Col. First Connecticut Cavalry 
Volunteers, and Brevet Brig.-Gen. U. S. Vols. 



51 



Headquarters Third Cavalry Division 

Appomatox Court House, Va., April 9, 1865. 
Soldiers of the Third Cavalry Division; 

With profound gratitude toward the God of battles, by whose blessings 
our enemies have been humbled and our arms rendered triumphant, your 
Commanding General avails himself of this his first opportunity to 
express to you his admiration of the heroic manner in which you have 
passed through the series of battles which to-day resulted in the sur- 
render of the enemy's entire army. 

The record established by your indomitable courage is unparalleled in 
the annals of war. Your prowess has won for you even the respect and 
admiration of your enemies. During the past six months, although in 
most instances confronted by superior numbers, you have captured from 
the enemy, in open battle, one hundred and eleven pieces of field artillery, 
sixty-five battle-flags, and upwards of ten thousand prisoners of war, 
including seven general officers. Within the past ten days, and included 
in the above, you have captured forty-six pieces of field artillery and 
thirty-seven battle-flags. You have never lost a gun, never lost a color, 
and have never been defeated ; and notwithstanding the numerous engage- 
ments in which you have borne a prominent part, including those memor- 
able battles of the Shenandoah, you have captured every piece of artil- 
lery which the enemy has dared to open upon you. The near approach 
of peace renders it improbable that you will again be called upon to 
undergo the fatigues of the toilsome march or the exposure of the battle- 
field; but should the assistance of keen blades, wielded by your sturdy 
arms, be required to hasten the coming of that glorious peace for which 
we have been so long contending, the General commanding is proudly 
confident that, in the future, as in the past, every demand will meet a 
hearty and willing response. 

Let us hope that our work is done, and that, blessed with the comforts 
of peace, we may be permitted to enjoy the pleasures of home and friends. 
For our comrades who have fallen let us ever cherish a grateful remem- 
brance. To the wounded, and to those who languish in Southern prisons, 
let our heartfelt sympathies be tendered. 

And now, speaking for myself alone, when the war is ended and the 
task of the historian begins — ^when those deeds of daring, which have 
rendered the name and fame of the Third Cavalry Division imperishable, 
are inscribed upon the bright pages of our country's history, I only ask 
that my name may be written as that of the Commander of the Third 
Cavalry Division. G. A. Custer, 

Brevet Major-General, Commanding. 
Official: 

L. W. Barnhart, 

Captain and A. A. A. G. 



I certify that the above is a true copy of the original. 

E. W. Whitaker, 
Lieut.-Col. First Connecticut Cavalry, and A. A. 

Inspector-General Third Cavalry Division. 

52 



Fort Leavenworth 

October 15, 1867. 

Gen. E. W. Whitaker, 

Chairman of Committee, 
Hartford, Conn. 

General : 

I am just in receipt of your invitation of the 7th instant asking me to 
be present at the reunion of your regiment on the 22d instant. It is no 
doubt needless for me to assure you that to be able to accept your kind 
invitation would be a pleasure indeed. But I regret that I shall be 
prevented from acting in accordance with my earnest wish in this matter- 
To meet those with whom I was associated during the rebellion is, and 
always will be, one of my greatest pleasures ; to meet the gallant veterans 
of the First Connecticut Cavalry, would be particularly gratifying. I 
cannot fail to remember the many triumphs in which your regiment bore 
such a prominent part. The dangers, toils and privations we have under- 
gone together are still fresh in my memory, nor have I forgotten that in 
that memorable battle at Five Forks, the First Connecticut Cavalry 
achieved the honor of being the first to leap the enemy's breastworks, 
secured his cannon, and turned them upon the retreating foe. This is 
but one of the many exhibitions I have witnessed of the gallantry and 
intrepidity of your noble regiment, and I have this to remember that 
under the many trying circumstances in which we have been placed, while 
opposed to the enemy, I never made a demand of the First Connecticut 
which was not complied with; never gave them an order they did not 
execute, even though it was to ride up to the cannon's mouth, and never 
saw them yield in the face of their foe, unless ordered to do so. Is it 
strange, then, that I should cherish a warm and lasting remembrance of 
the services of the sterling patriots of the First Connecticut Cavalry? 
Convey to your and my comrades the regret I feel in not being permitted 
to share the pleasures of your reunion, and believe me truly your friend, 

G. A. Custer, 
Brevet Major General, U. S. A. 
Correct copy of the original. 
(Sgd.) E. W. Whitaker. 



53 



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